9. ronan
ronan
I found Hunter in the smaller office off the west side of the library, the one he used when he wanted to work without half the campus finding a reason to walk past the door.
He’d already cleared most of the desk except for the folders he actually cared about, which meant he’d been there long enough to get irritated with whatever he was reading.
I shut the door behind me, dropped into the chair across from him, and waited until he looked up.
“Nichlas showed up downstairs about twenty minutes ago,” I said. “Split lip, marks around his throat. Malakai got the name out of him before he could come up with anything useful.”
Hunter’s expression changed immediately. “Echo.”
“Yeah.” I rested an ankle over my opposite knee and watched him reach for the file we’d already started building on her. “He finally admitted she’s his ex. Wouldn’t say much more than that. Every time Malakai asked what he did to her, Nichlas found something else to answer.”
Hunter opened the file without looking at it yet. “Where’s Malakai?”
“Following him.”
His eyes lifted.
“I told him we were coming here.”
“And he decided that meant follow Nichlas.”
“He wanted to see what Echo did next.”
Hunter leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening once before he looked down at the page again. “Of course he did.”
I didn’t bother defending Malakai. He knew exactly what Hunter had asked for and had chosen the version that interested him more.
That wasn’t unusual enough to spend time explaining.
“Nichlas was scared before he left. More than the damage justified. Whatever happened between them started long before she transferred here.”
“That was already obvious.”
“It’s more obvious now.”
Hunter turned another page and stopped at the Westbridge information we’d found the day before. “If she came here because of him, I want to know why before Desmond decides to ask me.”
“He might already know.”
That got his attention again.
I shrugged. “Nichlas is under his protection. Extra coverage gets requested, then he turns up looking like somebody got through anyway. If the wrong person reports it first, your father hears that before he hears anything from us.”
Hunter closed the file. “Then he hears that we’re handling it.”
There was no point arguing with that. Hunter had been managing Desmond’s expectations for years, and I knew better than to confuse irritation with uncertainty.
I shifted to the rest of what had been waiting for us that afternoon.
“East house wants more bodies Friday. They’re expecting trouble after the Voss table got expanded again. ”
Hunter’s mouth flattened. “They can have two more.”
“They asked for four.”
“They can want four.”
I nodded once. “And Colson’s people are still trying to move into the south lot after midnight. Security caught three of them last night.”
“Warn them once.”
“Already did.”
Hunter’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Then next time don’t warn them.”
I’d expected that answer. I made a mental note and moved on.
Two students had been leaning too hard on a freshman who owed money.
One of the lower houses was trying to use a Quorum connection it didn’t actually have.
Somebody had started circulating a list of names attached to Friday’s dinner, and three of them were wrong.
Hunter corrected what mattered, dismissed what didn’t, and by the time we reached the dinner itself, his irritation had returned for an entirely different reason.
“My father moved Camille to the main table,” Hunter said.
I looked at him. “She told you?”
“No. She made sure I heard about it.”
That sounded more accurate. Camille had never needed to deliver a message directly when there were ten people around her willing to carry it instead. I leaned farther back in the chair. “Desmond?”
“Obviously.” Hunter pushed the invitation card toward the edge of the desk with one finger. “He’s manufacturing a reunion.”
I picked up the card and glanced over the seating notes Hunter had written across the bottom. Desmond Hansen. Camille Voss. Hunter Hansen. Enough family names around them to make the point impossible to miss. “He’s not being subtle.”
“He doesn’t think he needs to be.”
“Camille won’t complain.”
“No.” Hunter’s voice stayed even, but I knew the difference between calm and contained irritation. “She’ll make it easier for him.”
Camille had been circling Hunter for months with just enough family pressure behind her that nobody could call it entirely personal.
Desmond liked the match because the Voss name was useful, Camille liked it because she wanted Hunter, and Hunter disliked both facts enough that every attempt to put them together became more unpleasant than the last.
I set the invitation back down. “You could skip it.”
Hunter gave me a look.
“I know.”
Skipping would only hand Desmond the room. Hunter would rather walk into something arranged against him than give somebody else control of what happened there. I understood that much without needing him to say it.
Hunter picked up the invitation again and read the seating line one more time. “He moved her beside me.”
“Then he wants people talking before dinner even starts.”
“He wants people assuming something has already been decided.”
I watched him turn the card over between his fingers. “What are you going to do?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
That answer lasted less than a second before footsteps sounded outside the office, followed by voices in the library beyond the door. One of them was familiar enough that I looked over before Hunter did.
Malakai.
I heard him laugh at something low and close, then the handle turned.
Hunter’s expression hardened before the door even opened.
Malakai came through first, one hand still on the handle while Echo stepped in behind him. I knew what had happened before either of them said a word.
Malakai’s shirt was untucked on one side, his hair looked like somebody had gotten a fist into it, and there was a fresh mark high along his shoulder where the collar had shifted.
Echo looked only marginally more put together.
Her clothes were straight enough, but her hair wasn’t, and there was a flush still high across her cheeks that had nothing to do with walking quickly across campus.
She took in the office in one sweep, first Hunter behind the desk, then me, then the distance to the door she’d just come through.
Malakai shut it behind her and stayed close enough that his arm brushed hers.
I looked at the mark on Malakai again. It was too deep and too fresh to misunderstand. “You tasted the goods?”
Malakai’s grin was immediate.
I leaned forward enough to get a better look at the scratches disappearing beneath his collar. “Jesus. She got you good.”
“She’s fun to play with.” Malakai sounded entirely too pleased with himself, and the way he looked at Echo made it obvious he’d already decided one encounter was nowhere near enough.
Echo folded her arms and looked between us. “Do you always discuss people like they aren’t standing right there?”
I met her eyes for the first time. Up close, she was smaller than the impression she gave from across a room.
That impression didn’t diminish much. There was too much contained in the way she watched us.
She wasn’t intimidated by Hunter’s office or by the fact that the door was closed behind her.
If anything, she looked irritated at being delayed.
Hunter didn’t bother with Malakai’s condition. “Sit.”
Echo stayed where she was. “I’m fine.”
Hunter’s attention settled on her fully. “That wasn’t a question.”
For a second, I expected her to push simply because she could.
Malakai looked like he expected the same thing.
Echo studied Hunter instead, then took the chair beside me and sat with one leg crossed over the other.
Malakai ignored the remaining chair and leaned against the edge of the desk near her, close enough that Hunter looked at him once before deciding there were more important problems.
Hunter opened Echo’s file again and rested one hand over the first page. “Nichlas says you’re his ex. I’m assuming that’s the least interesting part of whatever happened between you.”
Echo’s expression shifted slightly, enough that I caught it even though she tried to keep the rest of her face flat.
“He sold me out. Gave people something that belonged to me because he was scared of what they’d do to him if he didn’t.
” Her gaze flicked toward Malakai when Hunter mentioned the ledger, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You heard more than I thought.”
“I was interested,” Malakai said, entirely unapologetic.
Hunter gave him a brief look. “You were supposed to intervene before she got that far.”
“I did intervene.”
“Eventually.” Hunter left it there and returned his attention to Echo before Malakai could turn the correction into entertainment. “What was in the ledger?”
Echo settled deeper into the chair, one ankle crossing over the other. “Information. Names, favors, things people didn’t want connected to them. Enough that somebody was willing to kill for it.”
That was more than she’d given us downstairs and still less than Hunter had asked for. I watched the pause stretch between them while Hunter decided whether to push. He did, just more carefully. “How close did they get?”
“Close enough.” Her mouth flattened before she added, “Nichlas handed it over and disappeared. I dealt with what came after.”
Hunter leaned back slightly, studying her. “So you found him here and transferred in after him.”
“I transferred here because I found him.” Echo held his gaze, making it clear she knew exactly what he was asking and had no intention of giving him more than she wanted to.
Hunter’s jaw tightened once, but his voice stayed level. “Then tell me what you want from him.”